His Lips Drink Water, His Heart Drinks Wine
by Scribbler17
Summary: My take on the scene where Barry and Oliver share a beer and catch up on life from the four-way crossover promo. Written before any crossover episodes aired, so canon divergence. Mentioned/implied WestAllen, Olicity, and Lauriver.


Between Oliver pondering what they would be doing had the world not been under attack and Barry's subsequent move to race them to the nearest bar, an estimated two minutes had passed. The extra minute was to account for Barry deciphering Oliver Queen speak for, "I need a drink."

"Do you frequent this place?" Oliver surveys the dingy setting in disbelief with a slight hint of haughtiness. Despite the changed man he had become over the last nine years, a remnant child of wealth temperament still emerged sometimes.

"Not at all," is Barry's hasty reply. "But I figured Mayor Queen fancying a visit to Central City might raise a few eyebrows."

"Just a few," Oliver agrees, briefly entertaining the bizarre question of whether Prometheus even had eyebrows under that mask.

As they take their seats, a thick-bearded bartender sizes the pair of them up with beady eyes and sets two beers in front of them.

"Cheers." Oliver raises his bottle to Barry's, the clink of glass sounding before taking a generous swig.

"You know I can't get drunk, right?" Barry snickers after chugging down some of his own drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Oliver swallows, lowering his bottle from his lips. "Really?"

"Yup," Barry affirms, gulping another helping of beer nonetheless. "Makes me designated driver for life."

They share a hearty laugh at that before an awkward silence takes over. Barry finds himself preoccupied with the beer bottle in his hands, tracing its rim with his index finger over and over again, a kind of diffidence and self-consciousness creeping over him. He could admit to himself that he didn't have that many friends, but even he knew that he and Oliver shared a partnership that could only be considered peculiar. Here and now, in the midst of drinking among surrounding chatter and garish music, he's suddenly hyper-aware that the extent of his relationship with Oliver had never quite gone beyond their heroic pursuits. It was difficult to pinpoint what exactly they were to each other. _Co-heroes?_ Barry suggests to himself. Was that not what he and Cisco were, though? _More like newfound frienemie_ s, Barry reflects with mild sadness.

"So," Oliver's voice to his right interrupts his train of thought. The feigned casualness of his tone makes Barry wonder if he's feeling just as uneasy as he is. "What's been going on?" he begins. "You know, aside from-"

"Aside from aliens and timeline changes?" Barry fills in.

Oliver blinks. "What?"

Barry shakes his head. "Never mind." He's guessing Felicity hasn't broken the news of his time travel excursions yet, and he doesn't feel like being the one to explain _that_ now. He hesitates before taking a shot at another topic of conversation: "I'm unemployed."

That elicits a swift intake of breath from Oliver. "You got fired?" he marvels. "How? You have super speed, Barry. Figured that'd make you an ideal employee anywhere, unless you work at a nursing home."

"I was forced to quit," Barry explains, somewhat defensively. "It's a long story," he sighs, desperate to change the subject for a second time, swiftly regretting the decision to grab a drink and catch up at all.

He's not sure why he thought he could delve into his current woes with Oliver. As much as he admired him and respected his advice, ever since he first met him, he always harbored a strange desire to one-up him. Chock it up to fragile masculinity, ego, whatever. Maybe it was because of Oliver's age, his experience, his looks, his money, or his strength and stamina despite having no superhuman capabilities, but somehow Barry felt insecurity churning his stomach at his revelation that he was out of a job to the Mayor of Star City by day and the Green Arrow by night.

Or maybe Oliver just knew how to be a better hero and a better man. He had even managed to secure happiness with Felicity long before Barry did with Iris. Not that Barry would ever let anything taint how content he was with Iris now. And did it really matter if Oliver and Felicity became a couple before he and Iris did? He would have waited years if it meant he could love her the way he always wanted to.

But despite that recognition, he's still having trouble shaking off yet another example of Ollie outshining him.

He is however grateful this presents him with an excellent opportunity to direct the conversation off of himself and onto something they both can relate to.

"How're things with Felicity?" he prompts.

Oliver turns to glance at him quizzically, eyebrows raising. "With…Felicity?" he repeats slowly. "You know how I work with Felicity, Barry. In between hacking and coding, she still manages to keep my ah, _impatience_ in check when it comes to the recruits-"

"Oh no, I meant like, WITH Felicity. Like, you and her…" He makes a vague gesture with his hand in hopes of better conveying the implications of his question.

Oliver's eyebrows rise so far that they're in danger of disappearing into his blonde head. Barry is paranoid that there's something glaringly obvious he's missing here, but he figures Felicity would have told him if something had gone wrong, wouldn't she?

"Like your relationship," he finally clarifies awkwardly.

Oliver fixes him with another blank stare before picking up his beer bottle, bringing it to his lips. "We broke up."

Barry feels his cheeks flush and his heart race. _Is this something else I ruined?_ is his first thought. It was enough that he had replaced Sara Diggle's existence with a baby boy.

"What-what happened?" he finds himself asking, all tact and consideration gone.

Oliver doesn't answer right away, and when he eventually does, he won't meet Barry's eyes. "I wasn't honest with her," he states simply.

Barry doesn't question further. He knows getting Oliver to open up is like forcing a breach to, with or without Cisco.

"I'm sorry, man," he offers lamely, though he means it. Truth be told, he always related to Felicity's perspective more, remembering how her longing for Oliver ( _the way you linger on them whey they aren't looking, the smile you play to fake the part, the quiet dreams you keep to yourself_ ) was reminiscent of everything he ever felt when it came to Iris, but that doesn't stop him from sparing a pang of sadness on Oliver's behalf. He remembers what Oliver expressed about Felicity introducing harmony to his life, remembers thinking that Oliver of all people probably deserved such stability.

Oliver clears his throat. "Being with Felicity gave me a real sense of peace," he laments, as though reading Barry's mind. "Then Laurel died and…" He trails off.

"And?" Barry probes carefully.

"And now I don't know if I'll ever find peace again."

Silence follows this heavy confession, and Barry doesn't know what to say to disturb it, or even if he should say anything. He imagines all his love for Iris, imagines experiencing that two-fold, had there ever been another woman for him. He imagines losing Iris, imagines having to bury her, imagines standing over her grave...

He shudders and takes another swig of beer, wishing he could get wasted just for a moment.

"Well," Oliver's voice carries a forced cheerfulness that Barry doesn't miss. He must have deemed what he just shared as being too personal. "I guess I was right after all."

"Right about what?"

"About guys like us not getting the girl. I guess I really had a point."

"Ah, but you didn't," Barry grins, hanging his head bashfully. It's probably a little insensitive, but he has no control over anything when Iris touches his mind.

Oliver eyes widen. "You and Iris-?"

"Yeah," Barry beams, his cheeks straining to accommodate the smile spreading even wider across his face. "Me and Iris."

Oliver looks down but nods thoughtfully, arms crossing over his chest. "I'm really happy for you, Barry."

"Thanks, Oliver." He's no expert on reading The Green Arrow, but he thinks it's safe to assume he's being earnest.

That genuine sentiment doesn't stop the twinkle in his eye though when he leans over to mutter to Barry, "Can't say I fault her taste in guys. I seem to recall a little crush on me," he winks.

Barry rolls his eyes, but chuckles. "You should have heard what list she had your name on."

"Believe me, I don't want to hear," Oliver says. "I've had enough trouble come from lists of names."

Barry furrows his brows in confusion, but decides he's probably better off not knowing, choosing instead to empty the contents of his beer bottle.

"I can't believe that was two years ago," he reminisces, surfacing.

"Has it really been two years already?" Oliver muses. "Wow. Time is a funny thing."

"You have no idea."

Oliver jerks his head toward the vacant beer bottle Barry clanks down on the counter. "Not even the least bit buzzed?"

"Not at all," Barry promises.

"Drinks on me, then?" Oliver smirks. "Since The Flash is unemployed and can't get shit-faced to cope?"

"Drinks on you since The Flash is your ride home."


End file.
